


We're Kinda There (But Not Quite) [DISCONTINUED]

by writemynameinblack



Category: The 100
Genre: Abby is a bad mum, Angst, Child Abuse, Clarke suffers a shit load, Depression, F/M, Gets worse before it gets better, Kane is a dick, Pining Bellamy, Rape/Non-con Elements, Violence, ill add on to this mess as i go, its tragic really, not in depth tho, tiny bit of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-25 08:12:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6187024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writemynameinblack/pseuds/writemynameinblack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If love hurts then Bellamy Blake loves pain because even after all these years, he's still head over heels for the blonde girl with bright blue eyes...</p><p>[THIS FIC HAS BEEN DISCONTINUED. PLEASE CHECK THE LAST CHAPTER FOR EXPLANATIONS.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 01

**Author's Note:**

> Heyhey, I'm kinda new to this whole writing thing so please go easy on me!
> 
> There are no mentions of violence or rape in the first few chapters, at least not yet! but do read the trigger warnings before continuing!!
> 
> Please excuse any errors made. Hope you enjoy this first chapter!! ^^

Clarke first met Bellamy in the first year of primary school.

It was thirty-minutes into their first period on the first day and they are just done with their self-introductions when there was a knock on the door.

There was a boy standing there. Skinny and pale with a mop of curly dark hair covering his eyebrows. His eyes trained on his feet where it was shuffling uncomfortably from side to side.

Clarke eyes him with fascination because nobody is late on their first day of school. He also doesn’t look their age. If anything, he looks older.

“Come in dear,” the teacher urges and when she reaches her hand out to hold his, the boy jerks away like she burned him.

“Okay,” the teacher breathes out and Clarke sees the way she forces a smile. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?”

The boy looks up finally. He spares the teacher a glance before eyeing the rest of the class.

“I’m Bellamy Blake,” he says slowly like he’s unsure.

The boy – _Bellamy_ – has a low, gruff voice filled with an accent, Clarke notes.

“Alright Bellamy, why don’t you take a sit?” the teacher scans the class and when her eyes lands on the empty sit beside Clarke, her face lights up and Clarke _hates it_. “There, have a sit beside Clarke. I’m sure she could use a table buddy.”

Clarke hates adults. It’s her first day and she’s already insulted. Fishballs.

 

When Bellamy flops down on the chair beside Clarke (it’s not that hard to identify her since she’s the only one with a vacant sit), Clarke feels intimidated. His unfriendly frown makes Clarke shrinks in her sit a little.

The class goes on and it’s only when the recess bell sounds that Clarke finds her voice.

“I’m Clarke,” she blurts out before Bellamy has the chance to get up from his seat.

“Bellamy,” he says and Clarke giggles because she already knows that but is happy he replied anyways.

 

The rest of the day passes in a breeze. Clarke notes how Bellamy’s demeanour changes during History when he looks pretty much dead during – well, all the other classes – and she finds it somewhat attractive. He’s so cool.

 

When Clarke alights from the school bus, she spots Bellamy walking from a distance. She lights up and waves frantically at him until he’s nearer to her.

“Hey Bellamy! I’m your table buddy,”

“I know. I recognise you,” he says, a little too cautiously for Clarke’s liking.

“I recognise you too!!” she beams instead. Feels proud when she sees the boy smile a little. “Where do you live?”

Bellamy looks a little alarmed like Clarke is invading his privacy. Maybe she was. A little. He replies anyway.

“Um… t-there,” and it sounds more like a question than an answer.

Clarke follows the direction where his fingers are pointing to the door of the flat… right next to hers.

She swears the smile she pulls is threatening to split her face.

“No way, I live there!” she beams again, pointing to her own door. “We’re neighbours!”

Bellamy’s eyes widen a little like the information shocked him and hurriedly walks to his door and knocking it.

Clarke pouts but decides not to chase after him and heads back into her own home.

 

Over dinner, Clarke tells her parents about school and Bellamy, their _neighbour_.

Clarke likes the sound of that.

Apparently, Bellamy moved in last weekend when Clarke was at her grandmother’s. She also learns that he’s Australian, much like herself, and lives with his mom and younger sister.

Clarke wonders for a brief moment where his dad is but decides that it doesn’t matter. It has it reasons why it’s not mentioned. She doesn’t dwell on it much.

“We should arrange you three a play date one day,” her dad suggests and Clarke smiles _way_ too wide for her tiny face.

 

From then out, everything falls together smoothly like a nice domino effect. One play date turns to two, then three, and many more. The Blakes come over for dinner every weekend and Clarke’s family goes over a fair amount of time. Clarke is ecstatic about the whole thing. At first it was difficult to break through Bellamy’s introverted exterior but Clarke catches the few times he smiles, _really_ smiles, and even laughs and Clarke beams in success.

 

On Bellamy’s 8th birthday, Clarke bought him some history book about Ancient Romans (she’s not entirely sure to be frank) and the boy envelopes her in a bone-crushing hug that she returns with equal enthusiasm.

Clarke thinks the entire day spent listening, and not quite comprehending, to Bellamy excitedly sharing some of the facts he gained from the book was worth it, seeing the joy dancing in his eyes.

 

When Clarke fell face first onto the ground one day at the school’s playground, Bellamy scurries to her side and kiss her reddening cheek when he sees her lower lip quiver and her eyes filling with tears.

Clarke doesn’t cry that day. Not even when little droplets of blood forms from where a tiny cut has bruised her cheek.

Clarke thinks Bellamy’s kisses can cure all booboos.

 

It’s the term break and the Blakes are over for dinner one night. It doesn’t feel like anything new; the adults are somewhere in the dining room talking about grown-up stuffs and the children are in the living room watching TV.

Octavia, Bellamy’s sister, has fallen asleep on her lap some time ago and Clarke is absentmindedly running her fingers through her silky soft hair. Clarke and Octavia are close, but not as close as Clarke and Bellamy is.

She has decided a couple of months ago that she can’t live without Bellamy Blake. He’s an essential asset in her life now. He’s important.

“You’re my best friend,” she blurts out suddenly.

Bellamy turns to her mildly surprised and Clarke thinks she said too much _. But we haven’t talked for hours and this show is boring,_ she whines in her head.

“Then you’re mine too,” he replies calmly, shrugging a little like that was so simple to conclude and Clarke feels relieved.

 

“I can’t do this anymore,” Clarke groans and flops onto his bed in defeat.

She hears Bellamy chuckling and she swears she can _see_ him shaking his head at her from where she’s staring at the ceiling.

“History is not that hard Princess,” he says but joins Clarke on the bed either way, abandoning his assignment on the desk.

Clarke scrunches up her nose at the nickname but doesn’t comment on it.

“Yes, it is. I’m only 10 and I don’t actually _care._ This is torture. School is torture,” she whines and Bellamy laughs at her, bright and light.

“Says the one who has aced every exam since first grade,” he states bluntly.

Clarke rolls her eyes because _as if he hasn’t. Nerd._

Clarke’s father dies when she’s 12. It was the worst day of Clarke’s life. She don’t think she has ever felt this much pain before.

She doesn’t think she can _stop_.

Bellamy came over the night the news broke into the Griffin’s household and holds Clarke as she flat-out sobs herself to sleep.

At the funeral, the Bellamy’s the only one that doesn’t say ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ and Clarke appreciates that because she hates that phrase after hearing all of Dad’s co-workers saying it. It lacks empathy and sincerity. It’s not that they can do anything about it anyways.

Bellamy came over every day since then for a whole two months, making sure Clarke eats and showers, cuddles with her on her bed until they both fall asleep, sure to let her fall into her slumber first, makes sure she’s not alone when she cries, makes sure she’s _alive_.

It takes another two weeks for Clarke to convince Bellamy she’s okay and that he can stop torturing himself by watching stupid romantic flicks with her every night just so she’s not falling apart. Bellamy is always reluctant to leave her for the night, always opting to staying over unless Clarke practically has to push him out the door.

Clarke heart swells at the thought of Bellamy being _there_ for her. But she knows he has his own life to take care off as well, doesn’t want to steal Bellamy away from the Blakes’ home even if he’s _right beside_ it.

 

The transaction from a small neighbourhood primary school to a relatively big secondary school is a tiny bit scary for Clarke but she’s thankful for having Bellamy by her side.

On the first day of school, Bellamy coaxes Clarke’s anxiety of meeting new people by holding hands all the way from their homes until they reach their classrooms, squeezing occasionally when he feels Clarke tensing again.

It’s a warming feeling.

When they arrive at their classroom, they’re ten minutes early and Bellamy decides it’s a good time to sleep.

Clarke loves watching Bellamy sleep. He looks so calm; his mischievous look replaced with so much peace. Clarke giggles when Bellamy peeks open his eyes and catches her staring. He grins up at her and reaches out to ruffle her hair. She pouts a little at the action but couldn’t ignore the blush rising up her neck.

Clarke wonders if Bellamy could hear the loud beating of her heart right now.

He doesn’t.

 

Clarke decides that all 13 year olds are dickheads. She doesn’t like them all. Except Bellamy of course. And maybe this one guy in her Science class, Finn. He’s cute.

While kids play together happily in primary school, teenagers – Clarke _hates_ how grown-up that sounds – finds joy on picking on others. Together.

 The first time it happens, some guy in their class was picking on Bellamy because of his accent. Clarke never found his accent so prominent, but maybe because she’s known him for years now so he sounds pretty much _normal_. She just don’t get why the guy has to point it out like it’s a bad thing.

“You look constipated as heck but you don’t see me up your case,” Clarke deadpans, anger boiling deep in her.

The guy, whose name she doesn’t remember, or care to remember, as well as Bellamy, gapes at her like they’re surprised of the venom that she just spat out.

 _She’s_ surprised at the venom she just spat out, if she’s being honest but that’s the coolest thing she’s said since school started 3 months ago and she has to _maintain her temporary nonchalant demeanour, damn it_.

The guy scurries away mumbling something Clarke doesn’t care to hear about because she’s too busy scoffing and mentally patting herself on the back.

“Didn’t know you had that in you, Princess,” Bellamy smirks at her and Clarke’s cool composure crumbles because she just said _mean things_ to people.

“Neither did I,” she groans, burying her face into his shoulder because she’s so embarrassed at how quick she falls from her pride just because she said someone look like he has shit stuck up his ass.

“Aw Clarkey, you’re cute,” he coos, ruffling her hair and Clarke is glad she has her face hidden because she swears she looks as bright as a tomato now considering how fast her blush is spreading across her cheeks.

 

 

“Clarke Griffin, if you don’t stop clicking your pen right now I swear to -” Bellamy stops his threat when Clarke hands stills mid-air and she giggles.

“Maybe you should’ve stayed home grandpa. You look like you’re dying,” Clarke chuckles harder when Bellamy pulls that I’m-about-to-sneeze face but doesn’t.

“What? And skip the test I’ve studied my butt off for? Mind you Griffin, but I have dignity in my grades,” he scoffed.

He hears Clarke mumbled a low ‘only in History’ and somehow finds the energy to flick her in the forehead because _rude_.

Bellamy does feel like he’s dying though. It’s not his fault he got caught in the rain last night on the way home from the supermarket. Maybe it was his fault that his immune system is so weak but he isn’t about to blame himself for that right now. Not when his head is pounding and his nose is running and his brain has to actually _function_ because there’s a History test in half an hour and Bellamy Blake is not one for skipping tests. Maybe Biology, but especially not History. Nope. He has too much pride for that.

 

After school that day, Clarke goes over to Bellamy’s and Clarke thinks _she’s_ the one that’s going to die.

Bellamy wraps himself into a cocoon with all the blankets and snuggles up to Clarke, burying his nose in the crook of her neck, hot breath fanning the exposed skin there. It’s a tiny bit uncomfortable for the two of them but Clarke doesn’t mind it.

Not until he sneezes right _on_ her without warning and it’s too gross for Clarke to laugh it off.

“Clarkey, I feel like I’m going to die,” Bellamy whines when Clarke gets up to wipe her neck.

“You’re not going to die, idiot.”

Bellamy gasped at her with a scandalized look and she rolls her eyes.

“I’m going to go down and take some medicine for you, okay?”

“But Clarkeyyyy, it hurts. I’m going to die, Clarkey! Cuddle with me pleaseee,” his pout is obnoxious.

Oh God, he’s _14_. What a child.

Clarke clicks her tongue playfully at him before heading out the room yelling a quick ‘it’ll only take a minute!’ and chuckles when she hears Bellamy starts _counting_.

When she comes back up, it’s silent and she carefully peers into the room feeling a little scared because _did he actually died?_ Sighs in relief when she sees the slow rise and fall of Bellamy’s chest under the covers and the peaceful look on his face. She smiles a little fondly because Bellamy looks so cute asleep even with dark circles under his eyes and his nose redder than Rudolph’s.

She walks over to the bed, places the medicine on his side table and plants a quick kiss on his forehead. Cringes a little when it feels slightly damp with sweat.

 _If Bellamy’s kisses could cure my booboos, maybe mine would cure his illness_ , she thinks to herself.

She’s 13 and she knows it’s naïve to think so, but it’s Bellamy. Anything is possible with Bellamy.


	2. 02

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy falls and gets his heart broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyhey, i love writing Bellamy because he's a dork.
> 
> Also, I love-hate this chapter because it kinda rushed. Work is wearing me out and I wanted to post this before I go away on holiday so, yeah :(
> 
> Please excuse any errors made. Hope you'd enjoy reading! ~

Bellamy doesn’t know when it happens.

Maybe it was when they were 8 and Clarke bought him that book he’s _sure_ she has no idea what it’s about and the joy he felt was enough to make him leap onto her for a hug.

Maybe it was that time when Clarke nearly cried when she fell and Bellamy felt the urge to protect Clarke from any pain the world has to offer.

Maybe it’s all those nights Clarke’s cried over the death of her father and Bellamy decides that Clarke crying is the thing he hates the most, especially since her smile is as bright as the _Sun_.

Maybe it was all those times they spend when they were kids lying in bed together, falling asleep, whispering silly secrets to each other and it’s so comfortable and not weird and feels _right_.

Maybe it was that one time Clarke stood up for Bellamy and his heart _swells_ because it takes a lot for Clarke to get angry, seeing how chirpy she is all the time.

Maybe it’s when Clarke looks at him or their hand brushes together, let alone holds each other, or when Clarke laughs at his geeky jokes and Bellamy swears his heart speeds up because she’s so _beautiful_.

Bellamy doesn’t know when it happens but he thinks he’s fallen in love with his best friend.

He’s not even _sure_ what ‘love’ is.

Maybe he should call it a ‘crush’. Except it’s more.

What the heck? He’s a mess.

 

Clarke and Bellamy got their first phone when they’re 15. They’re both so excited about it, even bought matching _best friend_ covers and everything.

They never texted each other though. Never needed to since they see each other faces all the time.

Bellamy receives his first ever text, that is not from his mum, when it’s half past 11 and he’s just about to sleep.

He groans. Mentally curses whoever on this cruel planet that has decided that it’s a fantastic idea to disturb him at this godforsaken hour.

Takes it back immediately when he reads the addresser’s name on the screen.

**Princess Clarkey: Hey, wake up. I need to tell you something.**

**Princess Clarkey: Bell, I know you’re awake. Come out to your front porch.**

**Princess Clarkey: Pleaseee…**

Scratch that. He’s going to the extent of mentally cursing Clarke now. Gets up and down to his front porch anyway.

He can’t say no to Clarke. Not even when it’s almost midnight and Bellamy wants to _sleep._

He’s weak. Clarke makes him weak.

 

That’s how he finds himself, half-awake in his t-shirt and shorts, sitting on the sidewalk between his and Clarke’s houses with Clarke’s head on his shoulder.

Silence settles between them and it’s not that Bellamy minds because it’s actually comfortable but if Clarke doesn’t speak in the next half a minute, Bellamy might actually fall asleep and it defeats the entire purpose of him leaving his bed in the first place.

Bellamy knows though. Knows that something is bothering her because her shoulders are slumped and he catches how her fingers fidget on her lap. He’s about to ask when Clarke speaks.

“My mum has a boyfriend,” she says, sighing and Bellamy is taken by surprise. “He came over earlier for dinner.”

“Well, what do you think of him?” Bellamy questions cautiously because he’s not sure of what to actually say.

“I don’t like him. He looks…weird, like he has an underlying motive or a secret or some sort. I’m sceptical about him,”

Bellamy sighs and thinks hard for a reply.

“Maybe you’re just not used to seeing him around yet. Give it time Clarke,”

“I guess. I just…” she trails off and Bellamy heart aches at how her shoulder slumps in disappointment. “I’m sorry to have called you out Bell. Just needed your company,”

Bellamy blushes a little. Maybe it’s the use of the new nickname or the fact that Clarke called him because she just _needed_ his company. He risks turning his head to press a small kiss onto her temple. His heart speeds up when Clarke leans further onto him and intertwines their hands together.

Bellamy’s not sure what they are. He just knows that this, the whole holding hands, innocent touches, cuddles, are all a norm to them. Something they’ve done for eight years, as friends.

Sometimes Bellamy wishes they were more.

 

The rest of the night is spent in silence, comfortable with Clarke’s head now on Bellamy’s lap and his fingers are lazily carding through her hair. It takes awhile until Bellamy is literally dozing off and Clarke pushes him back into his home, apologising once again for keeping him up before returning back to her own house.

Bellamy watches from his patio as Clarke crosses her lawn and through the door. You know, just so he knows she gets home safe. Not because Bellamy thinks that even Clarke’s back-view is beautiful. Nope. _Definitely_ not because he thinks the little sway of Clarke’s hips when she walks is a _little_ hot. Not at all.

God, why is he such an inept hormonal teenager? It’s 2.30am for god’s sake.

 

Bellamy gets why Clarke is sceptical about the man.

When Bellamy meets him, Marcus Kane, one evening when he and Clarke were trying to do their Math assignment, Bellamy feels the negative vibe the man gives off.

He’s tall, lanky limbs, hollow cheeks. He’s dressed in a formal wear and neatly parted hair. He introduces himself to Bellamy, extending out his hand and Bellamy raises his eyebrows. He grasped the man’s hand for a firm shake because his mother taught him manners and the man smiles at him.

Bellamy felt a shiver run down his spine. _Creepy._

Bellamy stays for dinner that night. He learns that Marcus, or Mr. Kane, is the CEO of a corporation called The Ark, where Clarke’s dad used to work at. Apparently Marcus has helped Abby a lot during the period of grieving, financially and emotionally. Over time, the two have, well, felt for each other so… ta-da.

 

“So…” Clarke starts once they’re out of the house.

“Yeah, I don’t like him either,” And Clarke chuckles, low and Bellamy thinks it sounds a little sad. “But hey, it’s okay. If you don’t like seeing him when he comes around, you can always come over. You know you’re more than welcomed to,”

“Like as if I needed an invitation,” Clarke snorts and Bellamy laughs along with her.

 

Bellamy doesn’t do jealousy. Nope. He’s better than that.

But who the hell is this guy shamelessly _flirting_ with Clarke?

Bellamy and Clarke were studying together at the school library when some dude decides to _interrupt_ , handing Clarke her pink homework file that Clarke apparently left under her desk.

Finn Collins.

“Oh gosh, thanks! I owe you one,” Clarke exclaims, taking the file gratefully.

“Maybe lunch someday?” he says, _winking_ at Clarke and she _blushes_.

_Who the fuck does this gremlin think-_

Bellamy has to bite his tongue. Hard.

 

When Finn leaves them after a couple of minutes, Bellamy thanks the heavens because _fucking finally_. He chances a glance at Clarke and she looks _whipped_.

He’s not sure if it’s supposed to hurt this bad.

 

A week later, Bellamy was reading a book about the famous Augustus Caesar when his phone dings.

He’s ashamed of how fast he opens the message app when he sees that was Clarke.

 

Regrets immediately when he reads the text.

**Princess Clarkey: ohmygod Bell, Finn asked me out. Finn Collins asked ME out!!**

Bellamy thinks he’s going to die.

 

He tosses his phone aside and jumps on his feet. He’s not sure how long he has been pacing the room or how hard he’s biting his nails and thinking but the voice at the door startles him out of his trance.

“Uh, what’s up with you?” Bellamy looks up to see Octavia leaning against the doorframe, arms folded and eyebrows raised.

Bellamy flops onto the bed with a loud sigh and closes his eyes. “I’m going to commit,”

“Commit?”

“Suicide or murder, I haven’t decided yet,”

There’s a beat of silence before Bellamy feels the bed sink by his side.

“Can I join?”

Bellamy peeks open his eyes and sees Octavia grinning at him. He scowls at her in return.

“I’m kidding,” she rolls her eyes. “Come on, tell me what’s wrong? Is it Clarke?”

It doesn’t surprise Bellamy that Octavia immediately guesses its Clarke because _of course it’s Clarke_. His sister knows of his pathetic little love life though Bellamy convinced himself that he did a great job keeping his feelings subtle.

Apparently not subtle _enough_.

He sucks in a deep breath and starts rambling the entire drama of Finn returning Clarke’s file and asking Clarke out and Clarke blushes and agrees and da da da.

Bellamy tries not to think so much about it. He fails.

Bellamy is grateful that Octavia doesn’t snicker at him. But Bellamy don’t think he quite appreciate Octavia lecturing him about not giving up and trying to win Clarke over and that

“If all else fails Bell, you can commit,” she ends off. “Murder,”

Bellamy snorts at that last part. He’s seriously considering it.

 

Clarke and Finn go through that ‘not-official dating’ period for a couple of weeks and Bellamy feels like a victim. Clarke doesn’t ask Bellamy out to hang as often anymore and when they do, she doesn’t shut up about how _dreamy_ Finn is.

He is beyond pissed.

Bellamy doesn’t get what she sees in him. Ok maybe he does, the guy has that innocent cute look and showers Clarke with sweet nothings all the time. But it’s not like Bellamy is any _less_. (He has his own pride.)

What Bellamy doesn’t get is how Clarke doesn’t think that he’s _too_ innocent to be true. Bellamy is sure he has some deep dark secret hiding behind that pretty face. Drug dealing, weed smoking, pornstar, or whatever, Bellamy isn’t entirely _sure_ but he’s convinced. And it’s not because Bellamy hates the guy – he does, he _really_ does, _die diedie_ – but Bellamy doesn’t particularly like that Finn freaking Collins is _taking Clarke away_ from him.

Bellamy decides he’s a kidnapper. Yes.

 

Bellamy thinks he’s going to die.

He takes Octavia’s advice into consideration and with a lot of guidance from her, Bellamy has decided to confess his feelings to Clarke and braise himself for whatever will come.

He brainstorms ideas of how his confession is going to go. He even looks up on Pinterest for cute gifts and DIYs and goes to the extent of watching ‘For Her’ videos on YouTube.

Bellamy is so _gone_.

He finally decides on writing and spends a couple of nights scribbling drafts of his stupid little confession and Octavia teases him for being a hopeless romantic.

_(“Love letters are ancient, Bellamy,”_

_“Yeah? Ever thought about how your brother is a history geek?”_

_Octavia smacks the back of his head and scoffs, muttering how even she wouldn’t date him for nuts.)_

So here Bellamy is, on Clarke’s front porch and he thinks he’s going to _die_. He’s sweating and pacing nervously, practicing his _‘Hey Clarke, I love you’_ over and over again in his head because his first ever confession has to be done _right_. He fights the urge to run home and hide under his blanket away from the world.

Shit. Bellamy is going to shit himself.

He is halfway through a pep talk to himself when he hears Clarke’s door swing open. Bellamy swivels around so fast, he swears the world around him spun for a second before focusing again.

Clarke stands at the door, surprised and Bellamy needs to pee. He hides the letter behind his back.

“Oh Bellamy! I was just about to go over,”

His heart skips a little because _she was about to come over, to my house. Wow._

_Focus, Bellamy._

He’s about to speak when Clarke pulls him in by his arm and turns to face him.

“I have something to tell you!!” she bounces on her heels like an excited seven year old.

Bellamy thinks it’s cute.

“What is it, Princess?” he says as nonchalantly as possible. Mentally pats himself on the back for his success.

“Okayokay so hear me out,” she sucks in a deep breath and Bellamy feels himself doing the same.

“I have a _boyfriend_ ,” she squeals.

It takes all in Bellamy not to throw up right then.

He swallows the lump in his throat and stuffs the letter into the back pocket of his jeans. “Yeah?” Inwardly winces at how _empty_ he sounds.

“Yeah!” she beams.

Bellamy forces out a smile before excusing himself to the bathroom.

 

It takes _months_ for Bellamy to come in terms with it.

He tries to ignore the sound of his heart breaking when he sees Finn and Clarke holding hands. He tries to push aside the jealousy he feels when Clarke giggles at her phone, bright and so fucking _beautiful_ , because Finn probably just wooed her. He tries to supress the disappointment he feels when he notice him and Clarke has been hanging out less and less in favour of Finn.

Bellamy has semi come in terms with it; Clarke isn’t his, and a happy Clarke is a satisfied Bellamy, even if it means Clarke is with another guy and Bellamy’s heart feels like it has been ripped out of his chest a couple hundred of times and shoved back into his chest.

 

Bellamy feels like dying. It’s getting unhealthy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aye, how was it? The next chapter is when the good, painful stuff starts hoho. The update will take awhile because I will be away for a trip but I hope you'd look forward to it!!
> 
> Thank you for reading! x


	3. 03

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oK listen.  
> im soo sorry this took so long, i had soo many things to do because school is starting soon and had little time writing because i had to settle things for work as well and im so tired *cries*
> 
> bUT i managed, thank God though i didn't had time to proof-read this so i'm sorry if it's shitty *cries more*
> 
> i hope ya'll enjoy it nonetheless! please excuse any errors made huhu

“We have graduated!!” Clarke screams out to the air and starts awkwardly jerking her limbs in what Bellamy assumes is an attempt in dancing.

The people around are giving her weird looks and though Bellamy is a tiny bit embarrassed, he could only manage to chuckle and shake his head fondly at his idiot of a best friend.

None of their family members could make it for their graduation ceremony because reasons and Bellamy doesn’t quite mind it. He gets to spend more time with Clarke – _just_ Clarke – and Bellamy is more than happy to snatch up that opportunity.

They’re on the way back from school and Clarke is practically bouncing on her heels from the moment she got out of that ridiculous black gown. It’s not like Bellamy isn’t glad that high school is over and done with because fuck yes. It’s just a little hard to concentrate on his own joy when Clarke is radiating hers.

When Clarke stops her attempt of ‘popping’, she’s panting and wiping off the sweat from her forehead Bellamy is sure it isn’t there but knows Clarke likes to exaggerate. He reaches out to ruffle her hair because _she’s so cute_ and head locks her under his arms when she swats his hand away and scowls. Laughs loudly at her useless effort to wrestle out of his grip.

_This is nice_ , Bellamy thinks. _Having her close and teasing and laughing and it’s easy like the old times because it’s been so long since-_

Finn.

 

Dear fuck.

 

Bellamy abruptly halts, stumbling slightly when Clarke bumps into his side before regaining composure for the both of them.

Over there, standing on Clarke’s front porch is Finn Collins and judging by the way his eyes flicker between Clarke, Bellamy and Bellamy’s arm around Clarke before his expression darkens slightly, Bellamy guesses he is _not_ happy.

Keeps his arm snug around Clarke anyways because he’s a little shit.

“Oh Finn!” Clarke chirps and pries herself out of Bellamy’s arm before running up to him.

Bellamy has to look away when Finn leans down to peck Clarke on her lips. Wills himself to swallow the lump in his throat because _he’s over it, god dammit_.

So why does it still hurt?

He’s about to turn and leave when Clarke speaks.

“See you soon, Bellamy!!”

Bellamy could only manage a small nod. _Soon_.

The walk to his house right _next door_ never felt so far away.

 

“I’m going to die,” Bellamy lets out an exasperated sigh before flopping face first onto the couch. Maybe the cushions would suffocate him enough to actually cut off his oxygen supply.

“You’ve been saying that a lot lately, big brother,” he hears Octavia’s voice from somewhere in the direction of the kitchen.

He groans in response. Wishes Octavia would leave him alone for now. He feels so _tired._

But her senses her presence coming closer and sighs dejectedly.

_As long as she doesn’t bother-_

 

She’s poking his ribs.

 

He hates the world. Wonders what he has done so wrong to deserve this.

 

He blindly tries to swat the offensive finger away but it keeps _coming back_ like a damn housefly and Bellamy decides on trying to ignore it.

Just like how he’s trying to ignore everything else. Block out the entire universe because his lover is next door probably down _her_ lover’s throat and Bellamy doesn’t want to think about it.

“We’re moving,” Octavia says suddenly.

Now how does Bellamy ignore _that_?

Springs up onto a sitting position and looks at Octavia in disbelief like he’s heard her wrong.

“Back to Melbourne,” she continues.

And _no_.

_No_. Bellamy doesn't want to go. What the fuck?

“What? W-why?” he somehow manages from where there is not a single coherent thought in his mind.

“Mum said that Grandma just passed away and in her deed she gave us her house and-”

Bellamy doesn’t listen anymore.

His grandmother was alive? And now she’s _not_ and they have a house in _Melbourne_ and he has to- he has to move and leave-

“I know you don’t want to leave Clarke but Mum has made up her mind,” Octavia finishes and Bellamy still can’t quite grasp the situation to reply so he nods and drops his gaze.

 

Silence settles over them during dinner that night.

Bellamy has so much to ask. So much he doesn’t understand. He wants to speak. Question his mum about what the hell is going on. But he doesn’t know where to start.

“Congratulations on graduating, Bellamy. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it but I’m very proud of you,” his mum speaks up suddenly.

Bellamy jerks his head up in surprise. Relaxing slightly after seeing the soft expression on her face.

“Thanks Mum,” he says and goes back to absentmindedly swirling the pasta around his fork.

He hears a sigh from across the table and feels guilty for his distant attitude.

“Is it because of the move?”

Bellamy stiffens a little before nodding.

There’s no point in lying.

“Look Bellamy, your grandmother and me don’t have the greatest of relationships. In fact, my entire family and I don’t have the greatest of relationships,”

Bellamy knows that. Knows that her family disowned her after she got pregnant with Octavia and it’s not the same man as Bellamy’s father.

“And I spent all those years thinking she hates me and I never spoke to her. Not even once since we got here. And now she’s d-dead and I-I didn’t get to say goodbye. I-I don’t even get to attend her funeral. Yet she still left me with this house and I just, I just think that has to _mean something_. Forgiveness, love, care, anything,”

Bellamy sees a single tear fall from his mother’s eyes and belatedly realises how defeated she looks. Puffy red eyes with dark shadows beneath them.

Hates himself for being so selfish.

“I just think it’s right if we go back,”

Bellamy swallows the lump in his throat for the hundredth time that day. He gets it now. Understands why they have to go.

He watches his mother’s lips tremble slightly and get up from his sit to hug her, pulling her head onto his chest and hears her sob a little.

“I’m sorry, Mum,” he whispers into her temple. “I’m so sorry,”

Suddenly he feels an additional pair of arms around them and another head half resting on his chest and half on Mum’s head.

“Don’t leave me out,” Octavia mumbles and they all manage to laugh softly despite the situation.

 

That night Bellamy lies awake and thinks.

It’s not necessarily a good thing. Thinking. It’s not necessarily good. Not when it’s 2am and Bellamy is _scared_.

He doesn’t know why he’s so afraid to go. He thinks about when he first moved and had no friends until Clarke. He thinks about the bullies and how Clarke had been the one to stand up for them even though they both know Bellamy is the scarier one. He thinks about all the goofy, happy times he has and realises that not one had happened without Clarke.

Bellamy doesn’t know how to break the news to her. Doesn’t know how she’ll react. Doesn’t know if she’ll be okay or she’ll beg him to stay.

He picks up his phone and opens the message app. He opens his chat with Clarke and smiles fondly at their latest conversation. Clarke had sent him a silly cross-eyed selfie and her smile is bright and Bellamy thinks she’s so beautiful.

He types in his message, hesitating slightly as his finger hovers over the ‘send’ button.

“Oh, what the heck,” he mutters, quickly sending the text before he loses his nerve.

**You: So… I’m moving.**

Nice.

He regrets it immediately because he should’ve waited until he saw her again. He should’ve build up a conversation before dropping the bomb. He should’ve at least said _hello_. He should’ve-

There’s a knocking sound on his window.

He’s imagining things.

It’s 2am and he made a mistake and now he’s imagining things.

There it is again.

_Great. The world is coming to get me._

When Bellamy hears it for the third time, it’s accompanied by a whispered “Bell” and he almost pisses himself until he realises it might be Clarke.

What? There’s only one person who calls him “Bell”. Bellamy certainly _does not_ memorise the sound of Clarke’s _whisper_.

What the heck?

Why is Clarke awake at 2am he doesn’t know but there’s a chance that it _is_ her outside his window so he gets up and goes down towards his front door, grumbling the entire way.

Why did Clarke choose to come over? Didn't she read the message? If Bellamy had the mental strength to _see_ her right now, he wouldn't have texted-

He merely misses the stone that flew past his shoulder when he swings open the door. Shoots Clarke a ridiculed look because what the hell?

“Are you trying to kill me?!” Bellamy whisper-shouts, walking towards her.

“Oops, sorry,” She’s so _not_ sorry. It’s evident on how her face breaks into a cheeky smile. “I thought of waking up Octavia instead to get you down but her window is on the other side so I aimed for the door,” she shrugs nonchalantly and moves out to sit on the pavement between their houses.

Bellamy shakes his head amusingly and settles down next to her.

It’s silent for a moment before Clarke speaks.

“So you’re moving?”

So she did read the message.

“Yeah, back to Australia,”

Clarke’s head snaps up towards him and Bellamy reads the shock written all over it.

“W-when?” she stutters and Bellamy’s heart flutters and breaks a little at the same time.

“Next week,” he says, reaching out for her hand. He sighs contently when Clarke doesn’t pull away. Their fingers don’t intertwine like they used to when they were kids but she’s holding his hand in a firm grasp and that’s more than enough for him.

Clarke gasps again, sounding a little scandalized. “T-that’s so soon. Why?”

And Bellamy goes on about his grandmother and how she died and now he has a house there.

He watches Clarke’s expression the entire time. Watches how she turns shock and maybe even a little sad and Bellamy feels his heart ache despite the slight joy he feels because _she cares_.

When their conversation ends, it’s really late and Bellamy eyes are droopy. Clarke promises to see him tomorrow and Bellamy agrees almost immediately before heading back home.

 

The next day when they meet, it’s way too early for someone who slept at half past four but Clarke is smiling and laughing so bright and breezy so Bellamy doesn’t mind it.

They spend the next four days like that. Just meeting and chatting and teasing like nothing has changed.

Like nothing is going to change.

The first two days they spend time walking around the neighbourhood. Visiting places they used to hang-out and play at as kids, reminiscing on all embarrassing yet memory-worthy moments and Bellamy thinks about how much he missed it; two little goofballs fooling around and protecting each other like nothing else mattered in the world except each other.

On the third day they’re over at Clarke’s, snuggled together under the blankets and watched stupid rom-com movies and Bellamy falls asleep halfway just to wake up to the feeling of marker against his upper lip and Clarke’s face _right above_ his. He pushes her off the bed half in shock and half to make sure she doesn’t see the blush rising up his cheek because that was so _close_.

Bellamy stays for dinner and his mum and Octavia came over too and just chatted for old times’ sake.

Bellamy misses this too.

On the fourth day, Clarke comes over and it’s a little sad because Bellamy’s house is already half packed and so empty but they find comfort in snuggling, _again,_ on Bellamy’s bed, flipping through a photo album of Bellamy that Aurora made since he was little. There were photos of Clarke in there too and they laugh all too fondly at the memories.

Bellamy thinks it’s oddly domestic considering they’re _just friends_ and decides that’s probably what he likes most about them; platonic soulmates.

Clarke sleeps over that night and Bellamy takes the opportunity to drink her in. He watches, albeit creepily, as Clarke sleeps. Memorising the way her eyelashes sweeps her cheeks a little, how she twitches her nose ever so often, her parted lips, the slow rise and fall of her chest.

It’s silly, Bellamy thinks. How he’s afraid it’ll all be gone if he closes his eyes considering he’s leaving _the next day._

 

When Bellamy wakes up the next day, he’s alone. He shoots up in panic and for a moment thinks that his fear actually came true.

But his phone dings and it’s Clarke and he releases the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

**Princess Clarkey: Wake up, sleepy head. See ya downstairs!!**

Bellamy is about to reply when he hears his mum shouting at him.

“Bellamy! The van will be here in 10 minutes! Hurry up!”

“Okay Mum!” he shouts back and gets up to shower and get dressed.

He ransacks through his bag of clothes for his jeans because he forgot to leave one out and finally finds one. _Has he washed this?_ Decides he doesn’t care and put them on anyways.

When he stuffs his hands the pockets to straighten them out, he inwardly winces at the sound of a paper crumpling. Pulls it out slowly and straightens _that_ out and-

Oh.

 

_Oh._

 

It’s an envelope. All _too_ familiar envelope. Written on the front is a silly ‘For Princess Clarkey’ in neat cursive handwriting that Bellamy took _days_ learning.

Then everything starts crashing down. He feels his heart break and puts the envelope down on his dresser like it burned him. Digs his fingers into his palm and wills the pain to stop before he starts crying.

“Yo, Bell!!” And it takes Bellamy a moment to register Clarke calling him down.

He closes his eyes and inhales deeply before leaving his room.

 

Out on his front porch, Clarke is already waiting for him, still dressed in her pyjamas with her hair up in a messy bun and Bellamy is sure she hasn’t even washed her face but Bellamy also thinks she still looks so fucking beautiful.

He smiles at her and starts walking forward.

“Where’s Abby?” he asks when he notices Clarke is out alone.

“Out with Marcus probably. Not sure,” she shrugs like she doesn’t care and Bellamy doesn’t ask further because he doesn’t really care either.

They look at each other, eyes roaming each other faces like it’s the _last time_ and Bellamy’s heart is starting to ache again.

It’s a few moments of silence and staring until Bellamy can’t take it anymore and he lunges forward to wrap his arms around her. He feels reassured somehow when Clarke returns the hug just as tight.

“I’m going to miss you, Bell,” Clarke whispers right into his ear and Bellamy’s heart aches a little more.

He closes his eyes and breathes her in.

_I’ll miss you too. So much._

“I love you,” he breathes out instead.

_What? No._

“Aw, I love you too silly!”

_No. It’s not the same._

He feels his heart shattering.

_No._

He pulls away from the hug when the close proximity suddenly became too much.

“I’ve loved you way before I even knew what the word ‘love’ was,” _What are you saying?_

Clarke face falls when realisation sinks in and she takes a step back. If Bellamy’s heart hasn’t broken into a million pieces, it shrivels up and _dies_.

“Look, there are so many times I wanted to tell you this,” _What the hell are you doing_? “Primary school, high school, prom, graduation, nights we stayed up talking, all the birthdays and Christmases,” _– the fu- shut up Bellamy shut up shutup –_ “b-but I never did. I kept it in because I was so afraid. I was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same way. And then Finn came and I know-” Bellamy chokes a little and breathes in to maintain his composure. “I know you l-love him and I know my timing is the _worse_ ,” laughs a little emptily because he’s word vomiting and has no idea what the _fuck_ he’s doing. Goes on anyways. “b-because I had a whole _decade_ to say this to you and I chose the day I’m about to _leave_ to tell you b-but I couldn’t. I couldn’t lie to you anymore,”

He belatedly registers the tears falling from Clarke’s eyes.

_Oh no, she’s crying. Why is she crying? This was a mistake._

He looks at her, waiting for her to say something. _Anything_.

She doesn’t.

Bellamy takes it as his cue to go. Stumbles back into his house before he does _more_ stupid things like cry.

He ignores his mum’s reminder to bring his things down and Octavia’s questioning glare as he drags himself up the stairs and into his room.

“Fuck,” he sighs.

He feels like he has just been ran over by a train. It fucking hurts.

He’s amazed how he finds the willpower to shove back his clothes into the bag and pack up the last of his things considering how strongly he feels like _dying_.

He chances a glance out his window before he heads downstairs and his heart dies all over again when Clarke’s not there.

_Of course._

 

_Fucking hurts._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omf okAY so im going to write Clarke for the next chapter and wonder if i should write her feelings during the confession as well. tell me what you think!
> 
> also, i kinda want to make a platform for us to interact? like a Twitter account where i can communicate with you guys for some ideas i have or for you to scream at me if you ever feel like it, HAHAHa. but im not sure about that too. should i? tell me if you guys would like that too!
> 
> Kudos and comments make my day soo much, hehe ^^  
> tHANK YOU for reading!! x


	4. 04

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> olla friends. now i know this took so long & it's not my best job and i deeply apologise but i hope yall still stick around anyways! i would reason with you guys my delay but it might sound like a bunch of excuses so im not gonna do that haha. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy the chapter nonetheless!

“I’m going to miss you, Bell,” she manages, holding him a little tighter. A little _closer_.

Australia is _too far_ away.

“I love you,”

“Aw, I love you too silly!” she says all too quickly, missing the way her heart flutters a little.

_Of course I do. We’re best friends. We grew up togeth-_

Bellamy pulls back suddenly and she doesn’t miss the hesitation and insecurity that fills the action.

Feels an odd pang in her chest because _too far_.

“I’ve loved you way before I even knew what the word ‘love’ was,” 

_Oh._

Backs away a step like she had just been hit. Right in the heart.

“Look, there are so many times I wanted to tell you this. Primary school, high school, prom, graduation, nights we stayed up talking, all the birthdays and Christmases,” 

Clarke sees the panic in Bellamy’s eyes and it _hurts_.

“b-but I never did. I kept it in because I was so afraid. I was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same way. And then Finn came and I know-”

Doesn’t realise the tear that fell when Bellamy chokes on his words. Doesn’t understand why suddenly everything is so _painful_.

“I know you l-love him and I know my timing is the  _worst_ b-because I had a whole  _decade_ to say this to you and I chose the day I’m about to  _leave_  to tell you b-but I couldn’t. I couldn’t lie to you anymore,”

No. Bellamy _cannot_ be hurting right now.

_No._

Clarke searches for something to say but all words seem to cease to exist. Especially when her mind is spinning a mile per minute and it _hurts_.

Never felt this way with Finn before.

A couple of moments past and when Bellamy turns around to head back in Clarke almost stops him.

_Please don’t leave me._

It’s when Clarke hears the faint click of Bellamy’s door shutting does she breaks. Stumbles back into her own home because _hurts hurtshurts_.

Doesn’t understand why.

 

Clarke watches from the tiny slits of the blinds in her room as Bellamy loads up the boxes into the van. When he chances a glance up to Clarke’s window, she spins around, back pressed against the wall, away from his sight. When Clarke here’s the engine of the van roar to life, she turns again, peering again through the slits. She watches as Bellamy hops in, together with the rest of the Blakes and they drive off.

She feels a tightening in her chest. Bellamy is gone. She didn’t even get to say _goodbye_.

 

Clarke doesn’t sleep that night. She doesn’t know how long she lies over her made bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Bellamy loves her. She has a boyfriend. Bellamy’s hurt. She did that. Bellamy’s gone.

Bellamy’s gone.

Okay.

 

Clarke is boring holes into her pasta, absentmindedly swirling the noodle around her fork. She doesn’t feel hungry.

She doesn’t feel anything really. Just empty. Just very, _very_ empty.

Bellamy has left a big-ass hole right in the core of her fucking soul and Clarke is empty.

She whines, putting down her fork and pouts at her food. “I’m going crazy, help me,”

There’s no reply.

Not that Clarke was expecting one, considering she’s talking to a _bowl of pasta_ , but the silence is upsetting.

Clarke has gone nuts. Everything is so strange. The past _four months_ was so strange.

Clarke hasn’t personally hear from Bellamy since the day he moved. Sure, she gets little snippets of his life from the social media but the lack of actual communication is killing her.

“He didn’t even call when he got there,” she whines again. “I would call but I don’t exactly _know_ his number, you know?”

Silence.

She sighs again, doesn’t exactly know what she’s doing. Wishes she wasn’t home alone with nasty microwaved food. There’s no school, no one home because Abby and Marcus are out for a vacation, no Bellamy.

No Bellamy. Clarke is too caught up on that.

“I miss him,” she groans. “I wish I could talk to him, you know?”

‘You could always message him on Twitter,’ the voice in her head says and she snaps her head up.

 _Oh,_ _right_.

“Thanks,” she says to her pasta, ignores the fact that that’s fucking weird, and dives onto her couch to grab her phone.

She opens the Twitter app and find Bellamy’s account name.

“Okay okay, I’m going to do this,” Doesn’t know who she’s talking to. The pasta maybe.

“Okay,” she breathes out. But the adrenaline from before is quickly draining out as her fingers hovers awkwardly over the keypad because what is she supposed to _say_?

A couple of moments past and Clarke has been typing different variations to the word ‘hello’ before deleting it again because it feels so fucking _strange_.

She bits on her lower lip, eyebrows furrowed in thought when her phone rings and she jumps in her sit.

**Finn <3 is calling…**

She feels a little tug of disappointment in her chest though she’s not sure why. Hesitates a second before answering.

“Hey baby,” Finn says over the phone and Clarke blushes a little at the pet name.

“Hey,” she giggles.

“What’re you up to?”

“Oh, nothing,” moves to lie down and get comfortable. “Just laying around, a little bored and lonely.”

“Mm, you could be laying here in my arms. I’d preoccupy you if you let me,” Finn says suggestively and Clarke blushes harder at the implication.

As much as they spend lots of time making out, they have never been _there_ before. It’s not weird, Clarke thinks. They’ve been dating well over a year, they’re 18 and it’s not odd to want it because raging teenage hormones. Clarke just, don’t think she’s ready yet. Always stopping things when they’re make out sessions go too far. Finn seems to understand, despite the hinting, and Clarke is grateful.

“Haha,” she laughs a little nervously because she’s unsure of what to respond. Somehow feeling the pasta judging her from where it’s abandoned in the kitchen.

 

The two spent close to an hour casually talking over the phone and Clarke feels a little better. A little less lonely. The phone call ends with the two of them promising to meet two days later and Clarke feels gleeful. At least there’s something to look forward to.

 

Two days later and Clarke finds herself in a small café with a cup of hot chocolate and a piece of cookie, alone. No Finn in sight. Clarke doesn’t mind waiting, oddly feeling nervous and awkward for their little date. Has been for 4 months.

It’s forty-five minutes later and her cookie is gone and drink is halfway done when Finn shows up. He stumbles his way to their table, rapidly apologising and he looks so flustered and sweaty that Clarke almost takes pity.

Almost.

Because a tall, tanned, _pretty_ brunette walks over to them and smacks Finn on the back of his head.

“What the hell?!” Finn shouts, spinning around in his sit.

Clarke wants to do something. Yell at the lady for hitting her boyfriend for no reason but before she could open her mouth to speak, the lady beats her to it.

“Don’t ‘what the hell’ me! Who is this girl?” the brunette yells. “Is she why you’ve been avoiding me? Ignoring my calls and claiming you’re ‘too busy to chat’ when actually you’ve been sleeping with _another_ girl?”

Another gi- what?

The brunette turns to Clarke and Clarke blinks, too stunned to speak.

“Who are you?”

“Uh… Clarke,” it comes out more of a question like she’s unsure.

Who _is_ she? Who’s the brunette? What is going on?

“Well Clarke, Finn is actually _my_ man,” she says.

Oh.

_Oh._

Hurts.

“Or should I say, _was_ my man,” she says, turning to Finn. “Fuck you Finn Collins,”

Clarke barely has had a word out when the brunette stomps out of the café, leaving Clarke and Finn to deal with the stares from the other customers in the shop.

 _Finn c-cheated on me?_ That’s impossible. Finn loves Clarke. Clarke loves Finn. It has always been like that. There’s no way-

“Clarke, listen,” Finn starts but somehow Clarke doesn’t want to hear it.

“Y-you cheated on me?” Her throat is constricting and it _hurts_.

“Clarke, it’s not like that. I-”

“Yes, it is _like that_! I saw it with my own two eyes, heard it with my own two ears. Of-” her voice breaks and she clears her throat. Wills herself to fight back the tears. “Of course it’s like that,”

Drops her gaze to the table because _pain_. Looking at Finn is causing her so much pain.

“Clarke - baby, listen,” he reaches out for her hand but she yanks it back fast enough.

“Go,” she mutters.

“Babe I-”

“I told you to go, Finn,” finds the will power to bring her gaze back up to meet his.

Hurts.

She thinks she sees a flash of anger cross his face and he’s speaking again.

“Fine! I’ll go,” he’s definitely angry. “I’ll go! I never loved you anyways,” he spat out before getting up to leave.

It’s the last sentence that does it for Clarke. Feels like she’s been shot right in the heart, instantaneous death.

Hurts. _Too much_.

She bolts out of the café, doesn’t quite know where she’s heading. Just running; away from the pain possibly.

 

She lets her legs carry her anywhere and it’s a short while before she halts at the sight of an all too familiar front porch, grass long and overgrown on the small lawn, front door closed shut and it smells almost abandoned and so _empty_.

Bellamy.

Her knees must’ve given up on her then because she registers the damp ground soiling her knees and it would be gross on another day but her heart fucking hurts and Bellamy is not _here_. Soiled knees be damned. Finally lets out a sob and now that she has started, she doesn’t stop. She cries out loud, fisted hands pressed onto her eyes.

Bellamy.

Bellamy.

Her heart hurts and all she could think of is fucking _Bellamy_.

 

It’s a long while before her breathing evens out. Lowers her hands from her eyes and gazes up to the lawn before her. Literally feels the big ugly ‘On Sale’ board snickering at her, almost like a ‘serve you right’, and she glares back.

 

Fucking Bellamy.


	5. 05

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mini chapter as a little apology for the late update *cries*
> 
> This is a flashback from the previous chapter, approx 2 months prior to the break up. I just wanted to show a little more change in Clarke's relationship with Finn.
> 
> I hope you guys will enjoy this!! <3

“Hey babe,” Finn says, taking her hand in his.

Clarke flinches slightly in surprise having been too caught up in her daydream to realise Finn has slid onto the couch with her. She shoots him a small smile, hoping it doesn’t look too much of a grimace than a smile.

And of course she fails because Finn face falls and she inwardly curses herself.

“What’s wrong, babe?” and Clarke can hear his voice laced with worry and somehow it makes Clarke grimace further.

“Huh?” she says instead, feigning ignorance because what _is_ wrong?

_Everything._

“Come on, what’s bugging you? You’ve been out of it for awhile now,” _Weeks_ , if Clarke’s being honest.

“It’s nothing, Finn,”

Finn - not babe or baby or whatever greasy pet names they’ve came up with over the past year. Finn.

Clarke’s so fucking _out of it_.

Several beats of silence drags over them and Clarke knows Finn must’ve noticed too. Snuggles up to Finn’s side as a silent apology.

“It’s Bellamy, isn’t it?”

Shit. Clarke is a terrible girlfriend. The worst.

Avoids the question and presses herself closer to him.

Clarke feels Finn’s fingers absentmindedly drawing scribbles on the nape of her neck and supposes that Finn is letting the topic drop.

Until she feels the fingers tightening around the roots of her hair and Finn’s pulling her back away from him.

Clarke winces in pain, feeling confused all the same because what the fuck? She’s ready to ask what the hell was that for but bites back her words when she sees the anger in Finn’s expression.

“You know what, Clarke?” Finn sneers and Clarke gulps visibly. She has never seen Finn this angry before, the fire in his eyes making her seat rooted to the couch as fear begin to bubble up in her.

“Ever since Bellamy left, you’ve been really distant. And at first I thought, yeah, because you two grew up together and him leaving all of a sudden is a little too much for you to handle. I've been patient about it. But it has been _two months_ , Clarke! Two months and you’re still moping like the love of your life died!”

That’s a huge stab in the heart because it sure feels like it. Sure felt like her soul was being ripped off when Bellamy left without a proper goodbye. Sure felt like she loves him back.

But Clarke doesn’t say anything. Feels the guilt and tears well up in her as Finn clenches and unclenches his fists in what she assumes is an attempt to calm himself.

It’s a moment of heavy silence until Finn speaks up again, the anger in his voice never faltering.

“You know, I’m starting to think that you don’t love me anymore,” he says and it sounds a little breathless like it pains him to say it.

Clarke watches as he grabs his wallet and phone and makes a turn towards the door and the panic that shoots up Clarke’s spine it the driving force that bolts her off the couch, grabbing Finn’s wrists like a vice and stopping him.

“No! I do!” she yells, not sure what she’s doing but he can’t _leave_. “I do love you,” so fucking _empty_. Feels the tears slip off and she knows how pathetic she looks; shoulders hunched over slightly, red-rimmed eyes and soft sobs escaping her lips like a silent plea.

“Please don’t leave me,” _Bellamy’s done that already._ “ _Please_ ,”

Finn doesn’t say anything for awhile but Clarke feels him relaxing slightly and thinks the initial anger is dissipating. Clarke tries to silent her cries and hopes and prays that her pleads will make Finn stay. She feels his large hands cradling her cheeks and she looks up to meet her eyes with Finn’s. His thumbs move to wipe off her tears and Clarke leans a little to the touch before she’s being pulled into a kiss. It’s rough and messy but Clarke doesn’t blame him, not when she feels the anger and possessiveness being poured into it.

Clarke takes it as a forgiveness, feels relief wash over her because it feels so nice to have someone who _stays_.

“I love you,” Finn whispers when they both pull apart for air.

“Yeah, me too,” Clarke breathes back.

 

So fucking empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! I'm already working on Ch. 6 so do anticipate it! 
> 
> Kudos and comments make my day, thank youuu x


	6. <Discontinuing Work>

Hello everyone.

It's my biggest regret to announce this, but I'm discontinuing this fic. Reason being is that I am not up-to-date with The 100 anymore since Season 3 started and I don't think I will any time soon, and I wouldn't want to write a fic with poor character development that doesn't coincide with the characters in the show because I think it will make the fic a little shitty and poorly made, as if I had created the characters on my own.

What I've decided, however, mainly because I had so excitedly developed the plot till the end, is to convert this fic into an original story with original characters on Wattpad. 

I truly, truly appreciate those who have read this fic for the past 5 chapters and anticipated updates and whatnot for the past months that I've been away. It really warms my heart to see yalls liking my fic but I don't think it's fair for you if I were to half-ass this fanfic and I seek for your understanding.

My sincere apologies to those whom I disappoint.

Thank you.

All the love,  
Nad xx

**Author's Note:**

> Comments or kudos makes me soo happy! They're very much appreciated.  
> Thank you! :)


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